‘I can’t believe you had sex with him after you’d already decided you were going to break up with him!’ Nora squealed. ‘You heartless bitch!’
‘Hey, it’s only polite!’ Daisy insisted. ‘Plus it gives you a chance to really go out on a high, and all that. Nobody wants to be remembered as a crap shag, do they?’
‘Please forgive her,’ Nora laughed, leaning towards Gray as she spoke. ‘She’s more open than a Tesco Metro.’
Gray smiled winningly at her over his £17 Old Fashioned. ‘No, it’s cool, I’m learning a lot! So the next time I have really mindblowing sex, I’m going to be thinking: uh-oh, I’m about to get chucked!’ Nora and Daisy giggled; Cleo busied herself with chomping down on an ice cube from her drink – Gray plus the words ‘mindblowing sex’ was doing funny things to her body temperature.
Across the other side of the booth Cole and Sarah were doing their best to ignore one another whilst sat next to each other and engaged in conversation with the same person. Cleo noted the half-drunk martini glass of cocktail in front of Sarah. She’d done this for almost as long as she’d known her – tee-total for half of every month, drinking socially along with the rest of them for the rest of it. Cleo had always just taken it as a quirk, like yo-yo dieting. Now she recognised it for what it was, what it always had been: Sarah only drinking during her period, when she knew there was no way she could be pregnant. She guessed there’d be no little Baby Norris nine months from now, once again, and her heart gave a pang for her friend.
‘I think they’re fighting,’ Eli said, having followed her gaze across to Cole and Sarah. ‘When I was sat with them earlier, brrr, it was like the Arctic.’
Eli was a weirdly empathic guy. He’d picked up on Nora and Harry long before being told about it and he always knew when somebody was hurting. It was like the universe’s most tasteless joke that he had spent most of his life head-over-heels for the most oblivious woman in the world.
Maybe it was because Cleo had originally been an outsider, but she’d noticed it right away. The way that Eli turned his face to Bea no matter where she was in the room, like she was always calling his name. The way that he was always fabricating reasons to touch her hand, to trap her in a hug. The way he paraded his unsuitable girlfriends in front of her like a misbehaving child playing up for the attention. They’d only ever discussed it obliquely, of course, so Cleo was still left wondering what Eli was waiting for; maybe he was going to end up waiting forever.
Bea sat the other side of the table, deep in conversation with the birthday girl, Claire; from the slightly strained look on the face of the former and the eager gesturing of the latter, Cleo guessed it was about the upcoming hen do, once again. She didn’t know why Bea had involved Claire so bloody much – it was meant to be a joint organisational effort between all four bridesmaids, which was already a little ‘too many cooks’ for comfort…
‘Can I get you another drink?’ Gray butted in to her internal musing, smiling expectantly, leaning close to be heard better over the thump of the music. ‘Do you want to come up to the bar with me and pick something, maybe?’ Cleo felt Nora and Daisy’s eyes on her. Her own cocktail was mostly finished, and mainly melted ice at this point. And by god, did she want another drink.
‘I’m fine,’ she assured Gray, hurriedly. ‘It looks like the birthday girl might need a top up though?’ she pointed out, motioning towards Claire at the other end of the table. Gray hesitated for the smallest instant, before reasserting his smile.
‘Okay. Let me know if you want something though.’
Not willing to face Nora’s judgement, Cleo hurriedly turned her attention back in Eli’s direction. He was looking at her like she was quite insane.
‘What’s that face for?’ Cleo asked him, alarmed.
‘Nothing. Well, to be honest… I know it’s none of my business, but – I’ve just gotta ask – what the hell is the deal there?’
Cleo laughed despite herself. ‘Deal? What deal?’
Eli gestured towards where Gray, having taken Claire’s drink order, was making his way over to the bar. ‘You know. With Fifty Shades.’
Cleo rolled her eyes but didn’t bother protesting at the use of that stupid nickname. ‘Eli, please. I get enough of this from the girls. There is no deal. He’s a friend, is all. My mate from work.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Eli’s eyes on her were calm and disbelieving. ‘Because nobody falls in love with their friend, right?’ he teased gently. (He could be talking about Nora and Harry, of course, but Cleo knew better.)
‘He’s dating half of London,’ Cleo found herself confiding, the loud background music somehow acting as a cover, making her a little more daring.
‘Meanwhile, you haven’t been on a date since you met him, have you?’ Eli pointed out, irritatingly on point and aware, as ever. ‘So what? Who cares?’
‘Well, why would he date a different girl every week if he wanted to date me?’ The words left Cleo’s lips, and left her cringing.
Eli’s eyes flicked across the table to where Bea sat, looking uncharacteristically done up that night in a black lace dress, her normally straight hair tonged into soft waves. She threw her head back laughing at a joke Claire had made and Eli’s jaw tensed; he looked away.
‘Does he even know that he could date you?’ he asked Cleo curtly. ‘How can he, when you flash hot and cold on him like you do?’
‘Excuse me? Hot and cold?’ Cleo echoed, slightly horrified at the direction her night (and this conversation) was taking.
Eli gestured impatiently. ‘One minute you’re leaning on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, and you’re looking at him like he’s the only guy in the world. Then the next – you’re turning down drinks; you’re pushing him on your mates. I don’t blame the guy for dating other women. You’re not exactly giving him any reason to wait around on you.’
Cleo drew herself up, refusing to take the offense that was being so blatantly offered. ‘Hey, that’s unnecessary,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t take what Bea’s always done with you out on me.’
Eli’s tension deflated all at once. He tilted his fair head back against the leather of the booth’s seating, like he was praying for strength. He decided he’d find it in the JD and coke in front of him, which he grabbed up and finished off with two long swallows.
‘Yeah. Sorry,’ he said eventually, gruff and aching. ‘Anyway. Let me get you that drink, at least.’ And before Cleo could answer, he was manoeuvring his way through his seated friends and out towards the bar, nodding politely at a returning Gray as they crossed paths.